


with your empty smile and your hungry heart

by umiyuki



Category: Kamen Rider Gaim
Genre: Canonical Character Death, Dissociation, Drabble Sequence, F/M, Implied Relationships, M/M, POV Second Person, Sexual Abuse, Stream of Consciousness, Tentacle Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-02
Updated: 2014-09-02
Packaged: 2018-02-15 21:10:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 887
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2243634
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/umiyuki/pseuds/umiyuki
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>She laughs, and her features move in some inscrutable way.  You work very hard not to cringe.</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. first time

“I have a project I’m entertaining,” she says, running her clawed fingertips over the corner of an abandoned computer tower. “But my understanding of human physiology is sadly insufficient.” She lifts her head to turn her gleaming red eyes at you, and the alien features of her face move in a way that could be expressive - you don’t know how to read the twitches at the corners of her vertical fanged mouth, whether they mean anything at all. You don’t know how to do a lot of things. Mostly you just pretend, which worked better before the world fell to pieces. 

“I need you to do something for me,” she purrs, the low timbre of her voice complemented by the soft tinkling of her ornaments as she moves.

_What I want is to have a god indebted to me,_ you’d said once. It feels like a long time ago, but now that you think about it, have you slept since then? You can’t remember.

“What might that be?” you answer, pretending like you actually have some say in the outcome.

She laughs, and her features move in some inscrutable way. You work very hard not to cringe. “I need you to let me touch you,” she says. A few dormant vines stir from their resting place on the floor and slither, so gently, around your ankles and up your calves. “Let me explore you.”

Some small place in the back of your mind briefly lights up to tell you how terrifying this is, but only until you smother it reflexively. _It doesn’t matter,_ you think. _It doesn’t matter, it’s worth it, if I can get what I want._ You told yourself the same thing when Sengoku Ryoma asked you, almost word-for-word, what Redyue is asking you now. 

“Of course,” you say, and start to undress. Her vines reach over your bared skin and wrap around your limbs, holding you in place. Hardly any different from the restraints on Sengoku Ryoma’s examination table. _It doesn’t matter, it doesn’t matter, it doesn’t matter._ Niisan fights with Sid on the edge of a cliff, blocking the edge of a blade with his arms to buy himself enough time to plead with you to run. _It’s worth it, if I can get what I want._

What was that, again?

You close your eyes, and Redyue’s vines spread over your chest, and Ryoma’s hands slip between your thighs, and Takatora disappears over the edge of the cliff, and you can’t remember.

… _It doesn’t matter._


	2. nth time

Her vines slip around your waist, your legs, your arms. They’re gentle, always so gentle, and you can almost ignore the way the alienness of them turns your stomach. They stroke you and cradle you, as if to say _well done, well done, aren’t you such a clever, pretty boy._ You want to cry but don’t remember how - you didn’t cry when niisan showed you the truth of the forest, or when Ryoma pushed himself inside you in a way that was as painful as it was hot, or when you found out what happened to Yuuya, or even when you stood and did nothing when niisan died, the first time. The vines reach between your thighs and start to tease into you and still you can’t cry.

Your memories of the fight come to you unbidden: niisan’s face when he looked at you, the things you’d shouted at each other out of anger and pain. You’d fought, and fallen, and-- “ _Niisan,_ ” you whimper as the vines find untouched parts of you to probe and explore, horribly intimate. “He, he stopped…” This is the first completely true thing you have said in a long, long time. You don’t know why you’re compelled to tell the truth _now,_ in front of Redyue. Maybe you think that if you say it out loud, it won’t be true anymore; it’ll just become another of your endless lies. “He stopped, and I…”

“Did he?” says Redyue, bemused as ever. “That was stupid of him, wasn’t it?” She reaches a vine up to caress your cheek. “You’re clearly smarter than him, aren’t you? You’ve surpassed him beautifully.”

Ryoma had said the same thing, when you’d confronted him about his loyalties. _You’re smarter than your brother._ And it must be true, if you’re the one who’s still alive, but.

But he’d stopped, he’d _stopped,_ and if you’d only thrown yourself at his feet, maybe he would have--

_No,_ you think, a lump forming in your throat, _no, don’t think about that, it’s done, it’s done, everything is done, there’s no going back._

_No one will ever feel at home with you now,_ Minato Yoko had said. The vines stimulate you and a strangled cry escapes your throat. They thrust in and out of you and all you can think of is niisan standing over you, frozen for an instant before you shoot him. _He stopped, he stopped, he…_

You don’t know how long it is before the vines finally give you release and drop you to the floor. You feel sore and hollow inside, but it’s not that different from how you always feel now. You put on your (niisan’s) suit with trembling hands and stagger back to your (niisan’s) office on unsteady legs and you are fine, you are fine, you are fine.


End file.
